Storm Moon

by KB Anne

  Alaric bent down and tried to remove Scott’s hand from Nancy’s wrist, but he refused to budge. Nancy was his.

  Gigi chanted and his hand lifted. Alaric’s replaced it. Soon Alaric was pinning Nancy down, and Scott was standing dazed between Caer and Gigi with Maddie supporting him from behind.

  “Why do I feel hungover?” he moaned.

  Without taking her eyes off Lizzie’s mom, Gigi said, “Because she was poisoning your mind with a Maleficium spell, just like she did to Lizzie. She was trying to turn you into a murderous monster by corrupting your thoughts so you would turn on us.”

  Alaric began to wriggle atop Nancy. Claws protruded from his fingers. His back arched and curled as his body shifted into wolf form.

  “What’s happening to me?” Alaric cried. “I’m losing control.”

  Nancy targeted Alaric with her maniacal smile. “Hello, son.”

  Maddie quickly shifted Scott’s arm to rest around Caer’s shoulders and flew. Yes, flew, because wings sprouted from his back too. He landed where Alaric had been caught by Nancy’s trap, retrieved the crystal necklace from the ground, and dashed back to Alaric. As Maddie replaced the necklace around Alaric’s neck, he returned to human form and whispered, “Son?”

  “So, it is true?” Caer said, returning to the task in front of them rather than processing what had just transpired.

  “Carman told me he was stillborn, but I knew better. He was born to me, a full faerie. He’d be immortal too. Strong and powerful.”

  Alaric softened his hold on Nancy as she lulled him with her words. Then she swiped her nails across his chest. He screamed, falling backward, clutching the wound.

  Nancy sprang up. Her wings erupted, flapping behind her, and she rose into the air. Caer charged at her and wrapped her arms around Nancy’s legs.

  “Caer, no,” Scott cried as Nancy swiped her nails across Caer’s back. Caer’s white wings exploded out, protecting her from Nancy’s assault before she could do any damage. Maddie flew up to help bring Nancy back to the ground.

  Alaric writhed as toxins coursed through his body. Black ooze seeped out of the claw marks his mother had left on his chest. Gigi eyed him wildly, stunned into stillness.

  “Gigi, do something,” Scott yelled at her.

  She snapped back to the present.

  She chanted. Vines wrapped around Nancy. Gigi flung out her arms just as Nancy ripped herself out of Caer’s and Maddie’s arms. She slammed into a large oak tree at the edge of the grove. Gigi chanted again. Hundreds of vines erupted from the ground and wrapped around Nancy, pinning her against the tree. The evil faerie fought against the vines, but each time she moved, the bindings grew tighter. She screamed in rage.

  Scott grabbed Moralltach from the ground and brought the blade to her throat.

  “Scott, don’t kill her,” Alaric rasped, but he should have saved his breath. Scott wasn’t going to kill her. He was back in control of himself now.

  “The iron and silver will keep her still. Won’t they, Nancy—or should I say Naisha?”

  Red eyes flashed at him. “How dare you use my name.”

  “But if we know it, we should use it. Isn’t that right, Caer?”

  Caer appeared beside him, holding Freagarach. “Yes, use of the faerie name holds power over someone. Especially if a faerie queen uses it.”

  Naisha spat at her. “You are no queen of mine.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” she said, lifting her own blade to Naisha’s stomach. “We hold all the power over you. Now talk.”

  10

  Mommy Dearest

  I always thought Lizzie’s mom was a bitch because she didn’t approve of Lizzie hanging out with me. Now, calling her a bitch would be kind. She’s full-on diabolical.

  I chant spells over Alaric’s chest, trying to undo whatever harm she did to him, but nothing is working. My hands hover inches above the gash marks, but the black ooze continues to seep from them. He bucks and writhes. His body is trying to rid itself of the toxins. He has no control over himself or the poison coursing through his veins.

  “Do something, Gigi. Help me,” he screams.

  “I’m trying. I’m trying. Nothing is working.”

  Naisha cackles from her tree prison. I refuse to read her mind for fear she’ll try to control me like she did with Scott, but if I can’t get this poison out of Alaric, I might not have a choice.

  “Leigheas, leigheas,” I murmur again and again, flicking my hand and trying to withdraw the poison.

  “It’s not working, Gigi,” Maddie says. “Why isn’t your magic working?”

  “I don’t know,” I whisper, my voice hitching. “I don’t know.”

  Alaric’s eyes flash red.

  “I am not losing you,” I shout.

  “Maleficium will soon corrupt his mind. He will turn on you or die,” Naisha says, followed by another bout of evil laughter. Do villains get a how-to manual with instructions requiring evil laughter?

  And then it hits me. “That’s what you did to Lizzie. You poisoned her mind.”

  Panic blinds me. I try to push it away with deep breathing, but it wriggles its nasty head, mocking me. I frown at Naisha. What type of magic can I cast on her that will persuade her to talk?

  She smiles. “Your magic won’t work on me.”

  “Gi,” Alaric rasps. He licks his lips, not from desire to kiss me but from the need to tell me something without having enough breath and life to do so.

  I put my ear to his lips.

  “The clover,” he exhales, his life-force weakening with every passing second.

  The clover? The clover! I dip into my pocket and withdraw the four-leaf clover he gave me. Naisha’s eyes widen. Fear appears there.

  Working purely on instinct, I run over and press the four-leaf clover into her cheek. “Tell me how to heal him.”

  She fights to pull away from it, but the bindings are too tight. The clover isn’t burning her, but it does do something to her.

  “Tell me.”

  “No,” she hisses.

  Alaric’s back arches off the ground. We’re running out of time.

  “You will tell me, or I will shove this down your throat.”

  “No.”

  “Fine.”

  I call for vines to sprout around her lips and pry them open. Her eyes widen as I lift the clover above her mouth. She still doesn’t answer me. I lower my hand. All I have to do is drop the clover in.

  She gargles, trying to speak. Her eyes fall to Scott’s blade still at her throat.

  “The blade?”

  She blinks.

  “I’ll take that as a yes. If you’re wrong, this clover won’t be good luck for you.”

  Caer flies over to Alaric with her sword. Her white swan wings fold into her back as I appear beside him seconds later. His skin and lips have turned gray. Black ooze fills his veins.

  “What do you want me to do?” she asks, gripping the hilt with absolute determination.

  Listen to your heart, Brigit whispers.

  “His heart. Put it in his heart.”

  Alaric’s chest bucks. Caer moves her blade up and down with it, being careful not to accidently stab him.

  “His heart? Are you sure?”

  No. No, I’m not sure.

  “Yes, plunge it in his heart.”

  “Gi, there is silver and iron in the blades. Either one could kill him,” Scott shouts.

  I am not going to overthink the possible consequences.

  “Do it. Plunge it into his heart.”

  Alaric’s eyes fall to mine. They’re no longer flashing red because they’re all red. The poison has overtaken him. There’s no time left.

  “Now, Caer.”

  She presses her lips as she plunges the tip of her blade into him.

  He screams as his body bucks and arches. He falls into a seizure. Black ooze shoots from his mouth in a constant flow of evil. When the Maleficium poison mixes with the clean Western Pennsylvania air, it tur
ns to smoke and evaporates as the sun hits it.

  Eventually, the spewing stops and Alaric collapses. I kneel beside him and begin the healing spell I tried earlier.

  “Leigheas, leigheas.” Over and over I chant, but nothing happens. Not a breath. Not a sign of life. Red eyes or green ones.

  “Is he gone?” Maddie whispers.

  I pound on Alaric’s chest to beat life back into him. I breathe into his mouth to push breath back into him. Nothing is working.

  “I told you he’d either die or kill you,” Naisha cackles.

  “Please, Alaric,” I beg him. “Please come back to me.”

  Inspiration strikes Scott. His thoughts penetrate my mind as he comes to an understanding of what he is capable of.

  “Let me,” Scott says. “Caer, take my place please.”

  Caer rests her hand on my back before returning to watch Naisha. That small gesture is enough to undo me. I cannot lose Alaric. Not like this.

  Realization dawns on me as Scott arrives at my side.

  “He’s dead. Scott, I killed him,” I whisper as tears stream down my cheeks and land on the cool earth. Clovers sprout from the soil to mock me. My chest heaves in and out as I fill my lungs before trying to breathe life into him again.

  Scott kneels beside me. “Let me.”

  He bends down and breathes into Alaric’s mouth. Nothing happens. He tries again. Still nothing happens, and any hope I had disappears. I place my hand on Alaric’s chest, clinging to our last moments. On Scott’s third try, Alaric’s chest rises and falls.

  Scott breathes into Alaric’s mouth four more times. Each time more air fills Alaric’s chest. As Scott completes his seventh breath, Alaric coughs, his body shuddering with the effort.

  Four white doves circle Scott’s head as he stands to allow me full access to Alaric.

  His rising and falling chest is the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen. More tears fall down my cheeks, but these are tears of joy. I clutch Alaric’s T-shirt and rest my head against his chest. “You’re alive. You’re alive.”

  Oegden can breathe life back into the dead when the love between two people is strong enough, Scott thinks.

  It is a beautiful blessing, I drop in his mind.

  He pats my back and returns to Naisha and Caer. He may be handy with a sword, but the ability to return life to those deserving it is his greatest gift.

  My cheek rests on Alaric’s heart. Each time his chest rises and falls, my heart races with excitement. As life returns to him, he places his hand on my back. I push energy into him to further aid his recovery, careful not to give him too much.

  “Gigi,” he whispers. “Gigi.”

  I lift my head so I can stare into his eyes—his all-green eyes with gold rims. “What is it?”

  He tilts his chin to the side as if he wants to tell me something. I bring my ear to his lips so he doesn’t have to work too hard to speak. His hands shoot up and grab the sides of my face. My head hovers just inches above him as I stare into his green eyes.

  “What?” I mouth.

  “Thank you,” he murmurs before pulling my lips to his.

  The moment our lips touch, electricity riffles through me. Heat and desire return to my extremities. Life explodes in me, blossoming just below my belly button. Alaric is alive, and he is mine, and I am his.

  Overcome with joy, I climb onto him and shove my hands into his hair to deepen the kiss. He died, and now, he’s here with me.

  Someone clears his throat, reminding me we aren’t alone. That we have an audience of our circle, along with Mommy Dearest as our prisoner. I roll off of him, and he sits up. Thankfully the wounds are gone, either from Scott’s breath of life or my healing spell. I help pull him into a standing position. He wraps his arm around me and stalks over to the oak tree where Scott has retaken his position next to Caer guarding Naisha, aka Psycho Mom.

  “Scott, thank you,” he says.

  Scott nods in acknowledgment. “You’re welcome, but had I known you two were going to go full-on ‘get me some booty,’ I would have reconsidered.”

  “Don’t hate, man,” Alaric says. “Don’t hate.”

  Scott rolls his eyes. “Oh gods, you’re just like Gigi. Lucky for all of us.”

  “Are we going to question Naisha, or are the three of you going to continue flapping your mouths?” Caer says.

  Scott locks eyes on me. She’s a feisty one.

  Hope you can handle her.

  So do I.

  I rub my hands together, creating some heat. “Let’s get started.”

  Without asking permission, without telling anyone what I had in mind, I grab hold of Naisha’s temples and close my eyes.

  “Labhairt gach rud.”

  Normally, when I read someone’s thoughts it’s whatever they’re thinking at that moment, and maybe with some probing or leading questions, I can read more of their mind. This time I figured I’d skip the questions, because she wasn’t going to tell us anything anyway. I use my own magic touch along with a spell to reveal everything we need to know.

  Naisha’s life comes at me in hyper–warp-speed.

  As a young faerie, she’s fluttering around with friends in a large courtyard outside a castle. There’s an instructor who’s showing them how to manifest and control their own magic. Keturah and some of the others learn spells with ease, making a feather levitate, a plant grow with vigor, a potion change color. They also learn how to efficiently use their wings. Naisha, unable to master the new skills, falls behind. She grows desperate for a means in which to master her own magic. She studies the grimoires and discovers that when the veil between the realms is thin, she can use a forgotten portal she discovered along the boundary of the kingdom’s land.

  Another flash a few years later, Keturah pulls a baby to her chest. “How is my little lovey?” she whispers.

  Naisha sits across from her. “What are you going to do? You won’t be able to continue your studies with a child.”

  Keturah glares at her. “Why not? I am a capable woman who can both mother and learn. Besides, shouldn’t you be the one worried about the King’s wrath? Midsummer’s Eve is fast approaching. You’re not going to visit the other realm, are you?”

  “He says I’m the one.”

  “The one?” Keturah frowns. “He just wants to get into your skirts or find a way into this realm.”

  “I’ve already told him I won’t bring him here. He wants me all the same.”

  Keturah shakes her head back and forth as she places the baby in the cradle beside her rocking chair.

  “It’s true, and I’ll prove it to you.”

  “No, you won’t. You risk too much going there. You aren’t powerful enough to resist the pull.”

  The baby whimpers.

  “Oh, my sweet faerie boy,” Keturah says, picking him up and walking inside.

  Naisha stands at the open doorway. “Yes, I am, and I will prove it to you.”

  Another vision forms: Naisha sneaks into the same cottage. She comes out seconds later with a bundle, her face alight in the Strawberry Moon. The brightness of her eyes from just days before is gone, replaced by fresh gashes across her cheek. The bundle starts screaming.

  “I am capable of stealing a baby right out from under your know-it-all nose,” she hisses and disappears into the night.

  I pull away gasping. My eyes jump to Maddie who’s watching me with the utmost concern before I turn my gaze to Alaric, then Scott, and then Caer.

  “What?” Scott says. “Gigi, what is it?”

  I shake my head. “I need to keep going.”

  Naisha narrows her eyes at me. The faint scars of claw marks are nearly invisible on her cheek now unless a person knew they were there. The vines still hold her mouth open, preventing her from yelling or cursing, but she’s furious with me for invading her mind. I delve back in.

  Another flash, Naisha’s lying on a bed with a sheet covering her bent knees. Sweat pours from her brow. Someone wipes it with a cloth. The b
ack of her head is to me, so I can’t tell who it is.

  “Push,” someone else instructs. I recognize the voice. I stare through Naisha’s eyes, through her bent legs to see . . .

  “Carman,” I whisper but stay in the vision. There’s still so much I need to know.

  Naisha screams as she pushes.

  “That’s it. Good job.” The woman who wiped her brow turns to smile at Naisha.

  Calliope.

  I gasp, wanting to pull out but force myself to remain in the vision.

  “Push,” Carman insists.

  Naisha screams, pushing again. She falls back, panting as cries fill the room.

  “A boy,” Calliope whispers in reverence as Carman quickly wipes off the baby. Carman chants something and the baby’s cries immediately stop.

  Naisha stiffens. “What’s wrong?”

  Calliope wipes a wet towel across Naisha’s eyes. She murmurs something, and everything goes black.

  I dig farther into Naisha’s mind and find a vision of her pregnant again. This time she’s with Calliope and my mom. My eyes prick with happiness at the sight of my mother.

  “Push, Nancy,” my mom whispers. Calliope wipes Naisha’s forehead again.

  Naisha pushes with all her strength and soon cries fill the room.

  “It’s a girl,” my mom says. She cleans off the baby, and quickly hands her to Naisha.

  “Hello, Lizzie,” Naisha whispers, kissing the baby’s forehead. “I am never going to lose you.”

  While my mom’s back is turned, Calliope hands Naisha a dagger. Naisha pricks the tip of her own finger, then Lizzie’s. She presses them together and chants something. Magical energy swirls around them in a blood oath. Lizzie’s eyes briefly flash red before returning to normal.

  As the vision ends, I glare at Naisha. I clap my hands together for more heat. “Let’s finish this.”

  Naisha kneels in front of a man with a crown sitting on a throne. Beside him sits a striking woman with strong features and eyes just like Caer’s. Her belly is swollen with child. The King and Queen.

  “Naisha, it has come to our attention that you are visiting other realms without our permission,” the King says.

  She bows in front of them. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty. I hoped to make new contacts with whom we can trade.”